From Frustration You Were Born
by The Devils Song
Summary: "So, you can probably understand my actions. Want to know what I did? Get ready to gasp in amazement. I broke his nose." A journal about a best-friend stealer and the dreaded Valentines Day, curtesy of Mikan Sakura.


**From Frustration You Were Born**

(A/N: This is the same format I write with in my journal so do **not **complain that it is unprofessional. It is meant to be that way since it is more realistic than the way some people write diary format stories.)

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><p><strong>Journal: Thursday 9th February: 1st Entry<strong>

Ever have that urge to do something but you just can't?

That made no sense. Here is an example: I often get the urge to write, but no inspiration on _what_ to write. Frustrating, isn't it? Like if you have the urge to sing, but can't remember the lyrics to your favourite song. Yup, _that _feeling.

My name is Mikan Sakura. Long brown hair, boring hazel eyes, deathly pale skin and unimpressive figure. Optimistic goth, smart-ass, hopeless romantic and All Time Low fangirl. That's the essence that is me. Now, I will enlighten you to the reason I'm writing all this mindless trash.

I'm frustrated. DX

Yes. The dead face was added just because I _can _add it and it emphasises (I sure as hell spelt that wrong, didn't I?) my frustration. Sort of. The reason for my frustration? Ah, where to begain . . . There are five major reasons:

5) I can't find my lucky scrunchy. And I have my first debate tommorrow. I'm EXTREMELY (Yes, the capitals also emphasise my frustration.) superstitous, so . . . I'm screwed.

4) My freaking cat ripped up my favourite jeans. MY FAVOURITE JEANS! TT_TT. I only had one pair of black jeans. Now they're gone. I'd invite you to the funeral, but you're a journal (In case you haven't realised that yet. Some retards might not have.) and I'm not going to make myself look crazy in front of the rest of my bedroom objects attending.

3) I'm being stalked. Yeah, you heard me. I'M BEING EFFING STALKED! Do you know how scary that is? I don't want to get raped! Or killed! On second thought, shoot me. It'll end my suffering. But, seriously, a guy from school is stalking me. He stood ouside my window for four hours. FOUR. EFFING. HOURS. Where's Freddy Kruger when you need him?

2) One of my best friends ditched me. DITCHED ME! Isn't there some sort of best friends rule book that FORBIDS such tragedys? ISN'T THERE? (Cue big men with needles and nets. I'm insane.)

1) Natsume Hyuuga. Yeah, you heard (Read?) it right. Natsume Freaking Hyuuga. (The middle name was my doing. We can't give his parents credit for my awesomeness, can we?) Do you know what he did? Do you? DO YOU? -Takes crazy pills- Okay. I'm better. Back to the point. He, Natsume Freaking Hyuuga, just transferred to our school. So why am I already in hatred with him? I'll tell you why! He is the REASON my best friend, he-who-shall-not-be-named, ditched me.

Okay, I'm naming him. My ex-best friend (Yes, he has been demoted. Serves him right!) Kokoro Yome said that he 'looked cool' and he wanted to 'welcome him to school' which was really just code for 'he looks much better then you and I'm ditching you for him'. Asshat. (Genius, whoever invented that word. Pure genius.) So now I'm alone with one cat . . . Sob. Sob.

Now, here's the worse bit. After DITCHING (Ditching is such a horrible crime that I need to use capitals to fully explain the awfulness of it.) me, he has the NERVE to call me and say he can't hang out 'cause he's at NATSUME FREAKING HYUUGA's house! The conversation went a little like this:

Normal = Me. Bold (Because bold pwns italic) = Koko. Italic = Random people in the background.

"Whoever's there, if you don't want to hear my PMS-ing, hang up now."

**"Sorry to say, I'm not threatened by that. Your actually amusing during your time of the month."**

"Glad I amuse you, Koko. The hell do you want?"

**"Ouch. You mad at me?"**

"You ditched me. So, no, I'm not mad."

**"Re-"**

"I'M EFFING PISSED, YOU BASTARD! ASSHAT! FAGTARD!"

"Ah, okay! Calm down. I just called to say I can't hang out with you tonight."

-Insert devils face here- "Your ditching me again? Alright, what's more important then your best, most awesome, intelligent, beautiful, friend in the world, now?"

**"I'm at Natsume's house. He has Sevens Master on PS3! That hasn't even come out yet!"**

"Koko, you-"

_"Hey, Koko, get over here! Mochu lost so he's going skinny dipping!"_

**"Gotta go, Mikan. Bye!"**

"Wai-" Dial tone.

You see my misery. Sigh. Well, it's late and I have school (Bleh DX) tommorrow. Goodbye, journal!

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><p><strong>Journal: Friday 10th February: 2nd Entry<strong>

Who created Rebecca Black? Whoever it was, needs to be sued.

The whole day, (WHOLE. EFFING. DAY.) people screamed the words to Friday. 'It's Friday, Friday-' OH NO SHIT, SHERLOCK. Rebecca Black does _not_ deserve to be a singer. Ever seen how much dislikes she has on youtube? Yeah, not likes. _Dislikes_. So, suck on that, Rebecca!

The point of my rambling about Rebecca Black's suckiness? Well, one of the people singing this song was Natsume Freaking Hyuuga. And you know how he sung it?

Very. Loudly. IN MY EAR. While I was READING. Wait, get ready for it . . .

DX

Dead face. That's how I am right now. INSIDE. I'll admit it, he has a very good (And sexy - who said that?) singing voice, but that doesn't lessen the injustice of it all! Who get's away with singing crappy songs in peoples ears now-a-days, anyway?

. . . Okay, a lot of people. But you know what I mean.

So, you can understand my fury when my (self-proclaimed) mortal enemy and best-friend-stealer performed this injustice. While I was reading Hereafter! So, you can probably understand my actions. Want to know what I did? Get ready to gasp in amazement.

I broke his nose.

Okay, so that was _probably _a bit harsh. And my hand hurt like a bitch after it. And all that blood made me slightly nauseus . . . But it was purely self-defence! My ears were DYING from that horrible song. If you're going to sing a lousy song about Friday's at least sing T.G.I.F. Better yet, sing NOTHING. (When are the men with the big nets getting here?)

So, I bet you're wondering what happened after I broke his nose. (God, I'm speaking to you like you're human.) Well, Koko shouted at me (and got totally owned by me, but that's beside the point), multiple girls and a few guys screamed in horror and I was sent to the principals office.

I got DETENTION.

My first detention EVER! And it's with Natsume Freaking Hyuuga. (Because he provoked me, he got in trouble too. Ha! JUSTICE!) And you know what? Because of this _detention _(I can barely write the word without cringing!) I can't go to the Soundwave Revolution concert unless I pay for myself. So, basically, I'M GOING TO MISS ALL TIME LOW! Wait for it . . .

DX

I'm killing a lot of faces lately. It's the first time they came to Australia since I turned old enough to see them without supervision, and I. Can't. Go. FML. Maximum FML. Total breakdown level FML. I don't have a job. I can't pay for myself. So, this bring me to my next SUPER INTELLIGENT ('Cause everything I do is super intelligent.) solution.

MUST. FIND. JOB.

Not that I didn't have a job _before_. Because I did. As a waitress. (It takes skill to be a waitress.) But the boss was a total douche so I poured hot tea on him and quit. It was awesome at the time, but after it when my parents found out? SO. NOT. AWESOME.

Goodbye now, journal. I need to look in the want ads.

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><p><strong>Journal: Saturday 11th February: 3rd Entry<strong>

My school is cruel. CRUEL. (Oh, woe is me!)

I go to a crumy boarding school (Oh, the pain!) so my detention was on Saturday. SATURDAY. One of the two only days I get to wear mufti, I have to wear my uniform. And you know what's part of my uniform?

A SKIRT.

We're not even allowed to wear tights underneath them! How unfair is that? (Fashion discrimination!) And so, I spent my Saturday in a classroom with Natsume Freaking Hyuuga, searching through want ads. However, all did not go according to plan. (When does it ever? Cut me some slack, God!)

Here is exactly what happend.

I walked into the classroom, head held high. If I was gonna have detention (CRINGE!), I was gonna _own _that bitch. Then I saw the demon in the back seat and began fuming. My head was so hot (With anger.) that you could roast marshmellows over it.

MARSHMELLOWS . . . DROOOOOOL.

Off topic, much? Anyway, I began fuming and the teacher told me to sit next to Natsume Freaking Hyuuga. Naturally I protested, making Natsume Freaking Hyuuga smirk (Damn him.) and the teacher glare at me. So I sucked it up like the big (ish) girl that I am, sulked internally, and sat next to Satan. And you know how things got WORSE? (There's always a worse.)

The teacher left the room.

I mean, first my own best friend, but now the TEACHER is ABANDONING me to the clutches of Sweeny Todd? (If you do not recognise the Tim Burton reference, leave now. I have no time for non-TB fans.)

And so, once the teacher leaves the room, (And this is where it gets sad.) the devil turns to me and smirks because he just can't go a MINUTE without smirking. Egotistical bastard.

I huffed and pulled the newpaper and a laptop from my bag, looking for jobs and Googling (I love Google! It's life's dictionary.) them, but none suited me. And you know what level I reached at that moment.

Eternally-depressive-desperate-emo-corner-sadistic-life level. Yeah. It was just THAT bad.

So, I sigh my heavy dramatic sigh and keep looking, despite my inner torment. (There is NOTHING I won't do for my precious ATL.) Then, Natsume Freaking Hyuuga decides to speak.

"Need a job?"

I glanced at him, huffed proudly, and turned back to Lappy. (Yes, my laptop has a name. Jealous?) However, he did not get this OBVIOUS messge of do-not-talk-to-me-I-think-you-are-a-total-douche. (Dense bastard.) He continued to speak. Although I was determined to ignore him . . . There were ATL tickets on the line. A girl can only go through so much torture before caving.

"My family's magazine has a job open as an advice column writer. You want it?" I turned to face him, trying to gauge how serious he was. And he seemed pretty damn serious. (God, his serious face was so smexy - who wrote that?) I wanted that job. BAD. But there's always a catch, isn't there?

"What's the catch?" I asked, not buying into it completely.

He chuckled under his breath. His chuckles were so dreamy . . . Let that be removed from the record. He then finally decided to grace me with a reply.

"You'll be working with me. It's a dual advice column." At that moment, my life shut down. My last strand of hope was wretched cruelly out of my grasp. The world hated me. And worst of all: I WOULD NEVER SEE ATL. I wouldn't mind working FOR Natsume Freaking Hyuuga, because that requires no contact between us. But with? I can't endure that.

"Of course," he started, obviously enjoying my pain. (Cruel, cruel man.) "You can just live your life never having seen All Time Low live. You'll never raise enough money for a ticket with any job."

My mouth gaped open. How did this bastard know? (New question: why does he even care? Better question: is anyone ever going to answer my questions? Best question: does anyone actually care?) So, this was my reply.

"Stalker! How did you know I wanted to see ATL? Is anywhere is this world SAFE?"

Ah, the life of a dramaqueen. But he just laughed. LAUGHED.

"You've been muttering 'must see All Time Low' under your breath for ages."

I regarded him sceptically. "If no job will help me raise the money in time, how is yours any different?"

He smirked. AGAIN, Goddamnit! "I have an extra ticket to Soundwave Revolution and none of my friends want to go. My parents say if I fill the job, they'll get me a new car. It's a win-win situation for us both, don't you think?"

And so, not only do I have to work with him, but I have to attend the concert with him since it's a double ticket. But does my ultra fangirl-ness win out in the end? Well, the anser to that is . . .

HELL YEAH!

"Fine," I sighed, defeated. "When do I start?"

"Tommorow." With that, the teacher came back and we were shushed into silence.

Tommorow was the start of the beginning of hell. Oh, that doesn't make sense . . . You know what? Today can only be described with two words:

EPIC FAIL.

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><p><strong>Journal: Sunday 12th February: 4th Entry<br>**

I learned something new today:

Work. Is. HARD.

I know what you're thinking: 'No shit, Sherlock! That's why it's work!' But my work was hard because of a certain person.

Natsume Freaking Hyuuga.

He has shown me today that he is not worthy (I feel high and mighty.) of being in my presence so often. Because he is GAY. No, not that type of gay that you're thinking, yaoi pervert! (Can journals be perverts?) It's the type of gay that needs no definition because it's so gay that you can turn gay by reading the definition. Therefore, I will not write it. However, I will write this:

GAH!

Natsume Freaking Hyuuga is IMPOSSIBLE to work with! Not only did we disagree on, well, EVERYTHING, but he spilled burning, hot coffee on my favourite work shirt. What are the key words there?

BURNING. HOT. COFFE. FAVOURITE. SHIRT.

Add those together and what does it equal?

DX

Return of the dead face. I didn't get to kill any faces in my last entry, (Which I'm sure disappointed you . . . Pfft.) so here it is. Back and bloody. Because you know what? I feel dead again. And you know where? INSIDE.

We had to give advice to a certain girl, which is where things got awkward. Want to know her problem?

Dear Mr & Ms Friday, (Our pen names. Who do you think made it up?)

Yesterday was the first day of our grade six camp. We went to Canberra, down in Australia. The minute we finished sorting out cabins, we dived into the snow. However, after minutes of playing in the snow, I slipped and skidded on the ice. Everyone was staring at the area where I had skidded and there was a trail of red blood there.

I had gotten my first period. All the boys laughed at me and the girls kept giving me 'poor thing' looks. Then the teachers took me to the cabins and gave me a long, 'this is natural' talk. I was so embarrassed I could die! How am I going to face everyone again?

From Miss Once-A-Month.

A boy and a girl reading this. Both hormonal teenagers. Both hate each other. Result?

AWKWARD.

I had turned to him, very slowly, and said, "Justin Bieber was born." Now, I bet your wondering why I said that. It's because whenever there is an awkward moment, a gay baby is born. Hence, Justin Bieber was born.

Is that awesome or what? Apparently, he didn't think so.

But Stalker-Boy did. (I get shivers just writing that!)

After Natsume (God, I'm not bothered writing any nicknames anymore! I'm a LAZY-ASS! And proud of it!) had given me a dry look, Stalker-Boy walked into our (Yes, _our_. We have to share.) office laughing. At first, I didn't know he was Stalker-Boy. I thought he was just another worker.

"Who are you?" Natsume asked. I shot a confused look at him, until I realised this boy looked familiar.

Tsubasa Freaking Andou.

I had jumped and screamed. "Stalker-Boy!" Then I hid under the computer desk and pulled my wheelie chair in front of me for extra protection. Why? Because I'm not a turtle and I have no shell. (Lucky bastards.)

"Stalker-Boy?" Natsume questioned, frowning. Then he peeked under the desk at me. "Is that his name or is he insane enough to stalk _you _of all people?"

"Both!" I screamed. I heard a sigh.

"Mikan, you're so mean," whined Stalker-Boy's voice. (Anyone else notice I'm still writing nicknames?) "My name is Tsubasa Anodu and you know that!"

Any man who stands outside a girls window, watching her for FOUR EFFING HOURS and still expects to be called by his name by the very same girl is insane. This guy?

He was batshit crazy.

"Your name means nothing to me. Get out!"

"But I don't want to," he complained, pouting in what he hoped was an adorable manner.

PUKE.

I heard a sigh come from Natsume. "Listen, moron, this is a private office building. I don't know how you got in here, but if you don't leave immediately, I will call security."

I have never been more grateful for the existence of Natsume Freaking Hyuuga.

"Okay, I'll leave. Bye, Mikan dearest!"

PRAISE THE LORD!

The minute the door closed I burst out from under the desk and threw my arms around the now-standing Natsume. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!" That was a dumb move. Very dumb.

"Get off me, Polka."

I'm talking BRITTANY SPEARS dumb.

My ears had turned alarmingly red, steam came out from my mouth and foam from my ears. (Because it's overdone the other way around.) I jumped back from him and screamed.

"Ahh! Molester! Pervert! Pedophile! Rapist! Old man!"

Again. BRITTANY SPEARS dumb.

But he just sighed. "You hugged me and made your skirt fly up. Not the other way around. And you're a month older than me."

I gasped stupidly. "Stalker! How could you know that?"

"It was in your work folder."

"Oh. . ."

I have to go now. My dog is ripping up my cat. (Revenge!)

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><p><strong>Journal: Monday 13th February: 5th Entry<br>**

The day before Valentines Day. That sickeningly sweet holiday that disgusts even myself. Although my inner romantic disagrees.

I'm just bitter that I've never gotten anything from any men other my dad and my brother. (And that's SAD.)

However, this year I am determined to STAY HOME.

All the love-dovey couples make me sick to my stomach. (I never eat on Valentines.) My lying skills are awesome (Eight years of drama, baby!) so I've faked sick plenty of times. How did it never occur to me to skip on Valentine's Day before?

. . . We just won't answer that potentially insulting question.

So now here I am, sitting at home plotting my escape. Headache or stomach ache? That is the question that has plauged child since the invention of school. Well, I think I'll go with stomach ache since I had a HUGE headache today.

Ever tried answering a pain-in-the-ass math equation with a bastard humming 'Walking On Sunshine' in your ear? I don't reccomend it. Geez, what's with this guy and annoying music?

You guessed right. Natsume Freaking Hyuuga.

Although he earned a minor amount of respect for chasing away Stalker-Boy, I still hate him. And his guts. And his hair. Goddamnit, his hair is shinier than mine!

So, after fifteen minutes of tireless equation solving, I turned to him - when did he start sitting next to me? - and whisper-yelled, "Piss off! Trying to work here!"

He smirked and continued humming. (Who hums these days? And in MATH class of all classes?) I growled and turned back to the confusing numbers, determined not to let him get to me.

How do you think THAT turned out? (Again: Don't answer that.)

So I turned to him, as red as Elmo, and yelled foolishly, "Shut up! No one cares if your walking on sunshine just let me do my work, DAMNIT!"

That was the period where we had Kermit as our teacher. That's actually Jinno-sensei, but he loves frogs (Which is creepy because I love frogs too.) so I call him Kermit. It makes him seem less scary.

Wasn't working that well NOW, though.

So, like Scooby Doo, I cowered in my seat under the villains gaze. (Must stop watching Nickelodeon before writing.)

"Sakura! How dare you interrupt my class to yell such nonsense. And with the profanties!" Plural? I didn't think shut up was a profanity. "Mr. Hyuuga, stop laughing!"

I smirked inwardly as Natsume immediately sobered up, cringing from being scolded during his revenge. For what? Pfft. Who knows. (After obeservation I have determined that this boy is DEFINATELY bipolar.)

"Both of you, see me after class!"

GROAN. And it only gets better. (Sarcasm overload.)

When the bell rang for dissmissal we stayed in our seats, sulking. Well, I was. I didn't bother to check what he was doing.

"You two," Kermit barked. "Stand in front of my desk." We relectantly did as we were told and waited for our punishment. "As you know, it is Valentines Day tommorow -"

"Oh, God, no!"

Kermit glared at me, but surprisingly didn't scold me for my interruption.

"As I was saying, tommorow we will be keeping the tradition of selling chocolates, cards and roses for people to give out. No one has volunteered to sell them and everyone in the school parliament is busy. Therefore, you two will be selling these items."

"Oh, God no! Hell no! I hate Valentines Day so much that I was planning to skip. And I hate Natsume Freaking Hyuuga more! Let me off just this one time, Kermit! PLEASE!"

Now that was LINDSAY LOHAN dumb.

Natsume smirked at me as Kermit turned deep purple. (Red is my favorite colour, he doesn't deserve to turn red.)

"How DARE you call me Kermit? Do I look like a frog to you?"

Okay, that question should NEVER be answered by anyone who is not suicidal. Yet I found myself opening my mouth to bite out a snarky comment. (Ugh, kill me now! You stupid brain-to-mouth-filter!)

"Well, it'd be more convincing if we painted you green, but yes, you do."

Natsume Freaking Hyuuga saved me. SAVED. ME. And he took Kermit's bullet.

"Mr. Hyuuga! Such disrespect is cause for a month of detention, weekends inculded. Do you realise that?"

Natsume's face dropped slightly and he nodded. "Yes, sir."

Okay, what I did next was either the stupidest thing or the most honorable thing I've ever done. (Curse my good heart.)

"But Kermit, he has a point. You're slimy like a frog and your face is all ugly."

And so, we are selling on Valentines Day, we have detention for a month and trash pick-up for a fortnight.

As we walked out of the classroom, all emo-y from Kermit's scolding, Natsume grabbed my arm and turned me to him. "Thanks, Polka. For taking the blame with me."

"Thanks, bastard. For taking Kermit's spit for me." Yes, Kermit SPIT on Natsume. (Haha, go over-active saliva glands!) He shuddered as if remembering the feel of old man spit.

"Yeah. That was SO not worth it."

"Worth what?"

"This." And with that he stole my journal (THIS JOURNAL!) and took off down the hall.

I screamed. "KYAAAA! Come back here, BASTARD!" I chased him all around the soccer field before finally catching up and tackling him to the ground. "Haha! Gotcha!"

I snatched my journal out of his hand and was about to get up when he grabbed my hand and said, "The most unlikely people do the most unlikely things." Then Mr Mood Swing (My new favourite nickname for him.) pushed me to the ground and waltzed off towards the dorms.

Now I'm left puzzling this one question: WHAT THE HECK DID HE MEAN?

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><p><strong>Journal: Tuesday 14th February: 6th Entry<strong>

I'm speechless. (Not wordless, so I'm writing this down.)

So, I no longer have a hatred for Valentines Day. I'm not sure if that's good or bad. I'm just so damned confused right now. And it's FRUSTRATING me! (So we're back at the beginning.)

This morning I made up with Koko. We hugged and cried and apoligised again and again. Sadly, Kermit came and herded me off to the selling booth. (DEVIL FROG. He has no sympathy!)

When I got there, a long line had formed and Natsume was sorting out someone's change. The moment I sat down (-cough- shoved down -cough-) another line formed in front of me and I began handing out Valentines presents as well. We did that until lunch (And missed math clas. WOOHOO!) and then finally got our break.

Normally I would never sit with Natsume by choice, but Kermit forbid us from leaving the sales area and forbid anoyone else from coming in. (I swear that man lives to torture innocent children. And puppies.)

So Natsume and I stayed in our seats, eating whatever was in our lunchbox. Since boys eat so damn fast, he finished and turned to talk to the sad girl with a half-eaten sandwhich sticking out of her mouth. Oh wait, that's ME.

"Gotten any thing for Valentines?" he asked, a small smirk on his face.

"Dad gave me a charm bracelet," I replied. "My brother gave me a teddy. I haven't had a chance to check if I have anything from anyone in class yet. Stupid Kermit," I mumbled.

"I heard that, Miss Sakura."

"Aw, SHIT!" I yelled. That was the second time.

"And no profanities!"

UGH. Did he have super hearing or something? I swear to God he had a radar for when a child was being 'naughty'. (Where can I get one of those?)

Natsume chuckled, making me blush and my heart flutter. (I know, I know. Just keep reading, smart-ass.)

"Only you are stupid enough to do that."

"Hey, what do you mean-"

RING. Stupid bell.

He stood up then and whispered in my ear, (God his breath gives me shivers.) "Remember what I said yesterday?" I nodded meekly and he smirked. "Good."

Mr Mood Swing made me want to murder the nearest pig. (What? I don't like pork!)

I opened the door to my classroom, having been let off for the afternoon. The teacher was late so I walked towards my desk. You know what was lying there?

A rose.

I mean, can you imagine my reaction? It was something (Exactly.) like this:

"OH. MY. FREAKING. GOD."

Well, that attracted some attention. (No, I'm not an attention hog.) I picked up the rose and began reading the card that had been lying underneath it.

Dear Mikan,

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;  
>Coral is far more red, than her lips red:<br>If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;  
>If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.<br>I have seen roses damasked, red and white,  
>But no such roses see I in her cheeks;<br>And in some perfumes is there more delight  
>Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.<br>I love to hear her speak, yet well I know  
>That music hath a far more pleasing sound:<br>I grant I never saw a goddess go,  
>My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:<br>And yet by heaven, I think my love as rare,  
>As any she belied with false compare.<p>

Yours truly,  
>A man you know well.<p>

P.S. Look in your bag.

Secret Valentine by We The Kings proceeded to boom in my head.

"He knows my favourite sonnet?" I whispered, stunned. I swear I nearly fainted at that moment, but I had a bag to look in. (Haha, you thought I'd faint!)

"OH. MY. GOD." That was from a few of the girls who had come and looked at the rose and card on my desk. "I don't what it means, but it's so cute!"

I rummaged through my bag and my hand hit something soft. When I pulled it out, I gasped. It was a fluffy white rabbit with polka-dotted pads on its paws and a beautiful necklace around it's neck. It was a Sakura flower made of shining ruby gems on a silver chain. On the back of the flower was one word engraved in cursive scrawl.

_Polka._

Of course, I knew then it was Natsume and I finally understood what he had told me. I never knew he could be so romantic and sweet.

I sought his eyes in the crowd and saw him leaning against a wall, staring at me. He looked nervous, which was wierd. (And AWESOME. How often do you get to see him nervous?)

I marched up to him, clutching the bunny to my chest. "Thank you," I smiled.

He raised an eyebrow at me. "I just confessed to you and your reaction is 'thank you'? Don't you get it? I love you."

"No, I get it," I said, smiling sadly now. "And I'm sorry, but . . ." I saw his face fall and then started grinning. "I love you, too." (Revenge is SWEET!)

"Hey," he complained. "You tricked me."

"You deserved it."

"You deserve this."

And with that, he planted a wet one on my lips. I don't think I could have asked for a better first kiss. His lips were so soft and his tongue was AMAZING. (Pray that my brother never reads this.) I probably could have stayed there in his arms forever, but then the teacher walked in.

TEAR.

And so, Valentines is now my favourite day and the chronicles of my love-hate relationship with Natsume are over. Why? Because this is the last page. (Sucker.) Before I end this journal, though, I have one last thing I want to say.

:)

Smiley face. Because I'm in love with Natsume Freaking Hyuuga and I couldn't be happier.

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><p>AN: Do you guys want a **sequel **to this? I'm thinking of writing one, but I'm not sure. Tell me if you want one. I've been writing this story for about four months now, maybe more. It just came up one day when I was frustrated. So, From Frustration This Was Born. Oh, and just to be obnoxious and brag for a moment, this is my longest one-shot yet!

DISCLAIMED: I do not own Gakuen Alice, All Time Low, Kermit, Scooby Doo, Lindsay Lohan, Brittany Spears, Freddy Kruger, Rebecca Black, Friday, Walking On Sunshine, Sweeny Todd, Tim Burton, Elmo, Nickelodeon or Shakespeare's 130th sonnet.

Review please. Good or bad. Remember to say if you want a sequel! Or if you want to know what the heck that sonnet means, I'd be happy to send you a translation.


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